


cradle me, i'll cradle you

by dizzyondreams



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Smoking, soft chubby baby buff mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: Ian’s favourite incarnation of Mickey was when he caught him in that moment before sleep and complete wakefulness where he forgot where he was and who he had to be.





	

The light woke Ian first, slanting through the broken blinds directly onto his face. He grimaced, buried his face down further into the back of Mickey’s neck to escape. His body was warm and solid against Ian’s, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing almost enough to send Ian back to sleep. Ian traced his fingers over the slight roll of Mickey’s stomach, curled into a ball as he was, over his chest and up over his neck to feel the whisper-sharp pulse beat away under his skin. Mickey was pale pale pale, glowing in the striped sunlight thrown by the blinds, head tilted so his neck was laid bare. Always so vulnerable in sleep, and Ian smiled and pressed his nose to the crown of Mickey’s head. He smelt like cigarettes and cheap shampoo, and shifted a little in Ian’s arms as he kissed him there. Hair tickling his nose, Ian thought that if he was ever more happy than this he would die. 

Mickey’d hate it if he knew how soft his face went, how he automatically sought out Ian’s warmth in the middle of the night. He kissed him again, on the side of his bared neck, behind his ear, his shoulder, his bicep. Ian’s favourite incarnation of Mickey was when he caught him in that moment before sleep and complete wakefulness where he forgot where he was and who he had to be. He was stirring now, and Ian leant over him to kiss him on the cheek. Blindly, eyes still shut but already a smile tugging at his mouth, Mickey followed Ian’s lips until he caught him with an uncoordinated kiss to the side of his mouth.

“‘Mornin’.” Mickey grunted, groaning as he stretched, almost catching Ian in the jaw with an errant hand. 

“Watch out.” Ian laughed, laying back as Mickey made a dismissive noise and curled into his side. Ian watched his face, still slack and puffy with sleep. “You planning on getting up anytime soon?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mickey mumbled, pressing his face into Ian’s ribs. They breathed together in silence for a few minutes, Ian watching dust float golden in the fingers of light creeping across them, Mickey’s breaths evening out and becoming deeper.

“Don’t go back to sleep.” Ian whispered, rolling onto his side and curling around Mickey as he did so. Mickey snorted into his chest, extracted his arm from the press of their bodies to fling around Ian’s waist to draw him closer.

“Got nothin’ to do today.” He said, voice sleep-rough and fond. Ian laughed and wiggled down the bed a little until they were face to face. 

“I’ve got shit to do, asshole, and I know you’re not gonna let me out of bed.” In response, Mickey tightened his arms around Ian’s middle and grinned. “So you’re gonna have to get up first.”

“Don’t think so, tough guy.” Mickey grumbled, hands sweeping strong and sure up Ian’s back to twist in his hair. “Kiss me.” He said, voice low.

Ian kissed him, a sleepy slide of lips; Mickey’s fingers twitched in his hair, his nose bumped up against Ian’s and they laughed, near-silent. They didn’t often get mornings like this, even when Mickey was staying at the Gallagher house where they’d often be interrupted by Carl or Liam. Now, at the Milkovich house, even less. Ian dug his fingers into the soft skin over Mickey’s hips and dragged him closer.

“Don’t grab my fat.” Mickey murmured, knocking their foreheads together. His eyes were very blue in the early light, and his stubble rasped against Ian’s chin as he kissed him.

“It’s cute.” Ian said, and Mickey grunted.

“Stay in bed a little longer.” He said, lips barely brushing Ian’s as he spoke. “C’mon, I’m not ready to give you up yet. Svetlana’s gonna start yelling, Yevgeny’ll start crying, ugh.” He flapped the hand he had on Ian’s neck. “Hassle.”

“Fine.” Ian said, grinning. “But pass me the pack of smokes first.”

Mickey grumbled, but rolled over to reach for them on the side table. The blanket tugged away from him, giving Ian a view of pale white skin and summer freckles on his shoulders. His heart tugged fondly.

“That farmer’s tan is getting real bad.” He commented, once Mickey was tucked back into his side. In retaliation, Mickey dropped the cold metal ashtray right in the centre of Ian’s chest, and grinned around his smoke at Ian’s yelp.

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” He said, smoke creeping from his nose. Ian just reached over and took his cigarette, leaving a kiss where it had been.

They smoked in silence. Ian watched the smoke hang in the beams of sunlight, the nicotine making him feel near-woozy. Mickey laid half-turned into Ian’s side, head pillowed on his bicep and so warm and so solid that Ian’s chest hurt. Sometimes he found it hard to believe that Mickey still chose him, and sometimes it was so easy it felt like breathing. 

The house slowly woke up around them as the sunlight through the broken blinds grew warmer. Mickey had gone back to sleep, and woke when Ian was halfway through levering himself out of bed.

“Stay here.” Mickey mumbled, casting a hand into the empty space Ian had just left. Ian bent down to kiss him, savoured how soft and pliant tired Mickey was. Mickey’s eyes were gentle when he pulled away, and Ian felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

“You’ve been up once, you can wake up again.” Ian retorted, and laughed when Mickey groaned and flopped onto his back.

“Christ, you’re a pain in my ass.” He threw an arm over his eyes, dramatic.

“In more ways than one.” Ian quipped, and dodged out of Mickey’s way as he tried to kick him. “Okay, if you’re attacking me you’re definitely awake enough to come mind Yevgeny with me.”

“Never awake enough for that.” Mickey replied, chin pillowed on his arm as he watched Ian move around the room through bleary eyes. “Make me some coffee, and then we’ll talk.”

Ian grinned at him as he pulled a shirt over his head, “Stay in bed all you want. Be my own personal bed-warmer.” 

“Hey,” Mickey said, pulling the sheets up over his head. “I’d do just about anything once.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is for my wonderful ana maria , and it is all her fault that i'm in love with the big soft clown who is mickey milkovich
> 
> comments r wonderful!


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